


Finding Armageddon

by krikkiter68



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), The Thick Of It
Genre: AU, Crack Crossover, Fighting, Gen, Humour, Jamie is a streetfighter, Mentions of 12's era, Swearing, The Master is upset, Violence, do not copy to another site, do not host work on unofficial apps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:59:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krikkiter68/pseuds/krikkiter68
Summary: The Master is on the hunt, and no one on Earth can stop him.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	Finding Armageddon

Jamie walked into his office one afternoon to find a very handsome young man roughly opening and slamming the drawers of his filing cabinet and randomly throwing overstuffed blue A4 folders onto the floor. The air was thick with sheets of paper and laminated documents. He wore a purple coat and a loudly checked suit, his thick, lustrous black hair was in total disarray and he looked absolutely furious, although not as furious as Jamie.

“Hey!” Jamie shouted, “The fuck d’ye think ye’re doin’? Those files are fuckin’ confidential!”

To his astonishment, the man whirled around, causing his coat to billow impressively, grabbed Jamie’s lapels and pushed him hard against the side of a tall metal cabinet.

“Where is she?!” he snarled, his face an inch away from Jamie’s.

“Who? Who’s fuckin’ ‘she’?” Jamie said. 

The man shoved him again, causing his head to connect painfully against metal. He winced.

“The Doctor, minion. You have a file on her, don’t you?”

“As if I’d fuckin’ tell ye!” Jamie snapped. “Any information regardin' extraterrestrials is fuckin’ classified! It’s above top secret, fuckwit!”

“I’ll give you one more chance. Tell me where she is!” the man shouted.

“No,” Jamie said.

The man looked surprised. And then a malevolent grin spread slowly across his face. His teeth were perfect and brilliant-white and there seemed to be far too many of them for his mouth. Even with his adorably floppy and dishevelled hair, he looked deranged and evil.

“Kneel,” he intoned.

“Fuck off,” Jamie told him.

The man reached into his coat pocket and drew out a long cylindrical object. Jamie glanced at it. He didn’t know what it was, but it looked like it could inflict some serious damage.

“Kneel,” the young man whispered, “and I may let you live. I’m not promising anything, though. Do it. Kneel before your Master.”

Jamie slowly knelt in front of him, cursing under his breath. The Master placed the smooth, cold rounded end of his laser screwdriver against his neck. Ollie Reeder chose that moment to burst straight into the office without knocking.

“Jamie,” he started, “have you…”

He stopped dead at the back view of Jamie kneeling, his head level with the crotch of a wildly-grinning stranger.

“Sorry,” he said, uncertainly, “am I interrupting something?”

“Get out,” Jamie said to him tonelessly, not moving a muscle.

The Master seemed to notice Ollie for the first time. His expression changed. His eyes hardened.

“YOU!” he spat. “You traitor! I thought I’d vaporised you at the Nethersphere!”

“W-what?!” Ollie gasped.

“Get OUT, ya wanker!” Jamie shouted.

The Master raised his laser screwdriver and fired. The blinding white flare missed Ollie's head and blew the door off its hinges instead. Ollie ran screaming from the office. A second blast missed him by half an inch and blew a smoking hole in the opposite wall.

With the Master distracted, Jamie leapt to his feet. He grabbed the Master’s arm and twisted it behind his back. The Master yelped and dropped his laser screwdriver. Jamie quickly kicked it under his desk. They grappled with each other. The Master put Jamie in a headlock, then clapped a hand over his mouth. Jamie bit it.

“Ow!” the Master squealed as he tried to drag Jamie to the ground. “That REALLY hurt!”

“Good!” snapped Jamie.

“You will obey me,” the Master panted, dancing backwards to avoid Jamie’s attempts to trip him over. “My world is lost in flames and destruction. I burned it. I can do the same to yours.”

“Fuck off,” growled Jamie, as he seized the Master’s hair and forced his head back, “ye’re not from another fuckin’ planet! I recognise that accent. Ye’re from fuckin’ Stockport!”

The Master prised Jamie’s fingers from his hair and shoved him, sending him spinning to the ground, then straddled him and pinned his wrists to the floor.

“How dare you?” he hissed. “You will pay for your disobedience, human cur.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jamie shouted, struggling. “You…you mauve-coated cunt!”

“PURPLE!” the Master shrieked, pressing harder against Jamie’s wrists. “It’s PURPLE! Get it right! And do you have to use such dreadful language?”

“I don’t think ye’ve got the fuckin’ moral high ground here, pal,” Jamie growled. “Ye’re the one who’s tryin’ tae kill people.”

The Master loosened his grip. Jamie knew instinctively that the Master was going to try and strangle him. He reared back against the ground and headbutted the Master, who grabbed his nose with a cry and toppled off him. Jamie rolled the Master onto his front and then straddled him, sat heavily on his buttocks and pinioned his arms behind his back.

“Ye think ye scare me?” Jamie shouted. “You an’ ya stupid Rupert the Bear trousers?”

“Do NOT mention bears to me,” the Master howled. “I am VERY upset right now.”

At that moment, Malcolm, flanked by several burly security guards, walked through the smoking arch that was formerly a doorway. 

“Jamie,” he said, “what have I told you about shaggin' rent boys in here?”

“How dare you,” snapped the Master, writhing.

“You OK? Twatweasel was whimperin’ about someone firing a laser gun in here. I think he’s wet himself. Was this cunt in purple responsible?”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“At least you got the colour right,” he huffed.

He wrested his arms from Jamie’s grip and pushed him away, then desperately crawled towards the desk. With the others yelling and grabbing at him, he took hold of the laser screwdriver and pointed it at the assembled throng.

“Prepare to die, humans,” he growled.

He pressed the ‘Destroy’ button.

Nothing happened.

He frowned and tried again. Still nothing. He tapped it. Then he bashed it against a table leg. Still nothing. His eyes started igniting.

“I don’t BELIEVE IT!” he bellowed, “BLOODY BATTERIES!”

The others watched in astonishment as he threw himself on the ground, screamed, sobbed and beat the carpet with his fists, his feet kicking at nothing. Malcolm and Jamie stood together and watched him howling, until his last sobs faded away.

“…Feelin’ better now?” Malcolm said.

The Master stood up, unsteadily, glaring at them. 

“You’ll pay,” he snarled, pointing at them with a shaking right arm, a stray tear still shining on his left cheek. “All of you. I WILL find the Doctor. And I WILL take back what she stole from me.”

“Which is?” sneered Jamie.

“ARMAGEDDON!” the Master screamed at the top of his voice. With another, bloodcurdling scream, he pressed a button on a device attached to his wrist and disappeared.

Malcolm and Jamie looked at each other.

“Fuck,” Jamie said. “Code Red?”

“Code Red,” Malcolm replied. Grim-faced, he texted a number and punched in a message. About a minute later, his phone buzzed. Wordlessly, he clicked on the message and held it up for him and Jamie to read.

“Hi Malcolm!” it said. “Thanks for your text. OK, the man you met is called the Master. We go back a long way. Don’t worry, he always does that kind of thing. Just to clarify, here’s what he means by Armageddon…”

There was a break in the text, occupied by a photograph of a smiling Doctor cuddling a large, honey-coloured Steiff teddy bear.

“Cute, isn’t he!” the message continued. “And so soft. No wonder the Master misses him – bless! I didn’t steal him, honest, tempted though I was. The Master and I had a bit of an adventure last week, and he accidentally left him on a temple altar. (He was trying to destroy Ancient Egypt – long story.) I’ll pop round his gaff and give Armageddon back to him when I’m free. Anyway, must dash – universe to save! Love to Jamie and all the team at DoSAC. Seeya! :) xxx

“…a fuckin’ teddy bear?” Jamie managed to say, between gasps of laughter.

“Aye,” Malcolm said, grinning. “Know what? Sometimes I love my fuckin’ job.”

THE END


End file.
